The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap

by Paulette Mahurin

  “Okay,” she replied.

  “Charley will see you home.”

  “I can manage.”

  “Not a good idea. You take it easy now.”

  “Lil?”

  Charley answered. “Her shoe’s fixed. We’ll get her and hook her to my buggy. I’ll go get her and be right back.”

  When he walked out Doc asked Mildred, “Anything else going on with you that you want to tell me about?”

  She thought this over and decided it best to refrain from anything further. “Not really. I’ll pay better attention to drinking more water. With the heat and all…”

  “Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

  Under a near full moon, which cast an eerie light upon the stillness of the night, they made it back to her place. The minute Edra saw Charley with Mildred at the front door, she knew something was terribly wrong. She contained the panic she felt as she helped Mildred in and said good-bye to Charley. As the night progressed and cricket sounds grew louder, Lil neighed and paced, her instincts telling her that Mildred was in trouble.

  “Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event.” OSCAR WILDE

  16

  Charley entered Gus’s store feeling dejected. He wished he could do more to help Mildred but saw when he took her home the night before and spoke with Edra, it would be best to just let things be. He offered to help Edra assist Mildred to her bedroom but Edra insisted, with a force that surprised him, that he wait where he was, on the porch. As he watched Mildred being assisted by Edra, he wondered why they never invited him into their home. He also contemplated how suddenly things can change; one minute Mildred was vivacious, the next she passed out, and although he felt for certain the heat played a part in her spell, he was reminded that nothing is forever nor for certain, and sooner or later life is going to hand you tough breaks.

  Gus took one look at Charley and felt guilty. “Hope all my drinking didn’t…I’m sorry if I…I never learn…”

  Charley took note of the shame Gus was showing. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Just then a customer moved into earshot of them, and Gus immediately switched the conversation. “I was just looking at this here.” He showed Charley the catalogue he was holding. “The latest women’s bicycling outfits.”

  “Pants? Never seen nothing like that before.” Charley tried to make light conversation in spite of the heaviness pressing in on him from lack of sleep. He had tossed and turned the night before, replaying his conversation with Edra when she came out from helping Mildred, slouched and ashen.

  “Thank you, Charley. She just needs to get some rest now.”

  “That’s what Doc said. Said she needs to drink…”

  “Yes, Charley, Mildred told me.”

  “And he gave her something for her iron.”

  “Charley, thank you. Now I need to…”

  “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Not that I can think of. Thanks again for getting her home safely.”

  He interrupted her attempt to turn to the door. “How about I come back tomorrow to see how…help out with anything if…”

  “We’ll be all right. Think it’s better if we just let her rest without…”

  “I understand. I just wanted to…you’ll need shopping…”

  She showed impatience. “It’s getting late, Charley.”

  “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

  “We’ll get word to you.”

  Lost in his thoughts, Charley had not noticed that Gus had shelved new supplies and that quite a while had passed before he heard a couple of women by the public noticeboard speaking in excited voices.

  “They’ve got him on a treadmill six hours a day.” The reference was to the latest news on Wilde’s imprisonment.

  “That’s too good for him. Lock him in a cell and throw away the key!”

  The women passed Charley and went out the door, leaving a few stragglers in the near empty store.

  Gus was concerned that Charley was just standing around and not shopping, which was unusual. “Something I can do for you, Charley?”

  “Just trying to think about dinner tonight,” he said in a sad tone.

  Gus muttered self-consciously, “You sure my mouthing off…hope I didn’t say nothing off-putting.”

  “No, nothing to do with that. I should be thanking you again for the meal.” Charley mustered up a smile to reassure Gus he meant what he had said.

  Two women entered, catching Gus’s attention, and he quickly grabbed for the catalogue he had been eyeing earlier.

  Charley noted that he changed the subject for their benefit.

  “Finally we’re getting some practical clothing for women to bicycle in. All the restrictive things they have to wear inhibit their movement when they’re riding. These here are bloomers. Started making them decades ago but like most things in life, a battle was fought over their propriety and this cycling craze is gonna change all that.”

  The women in the store approached Gus to pay for their items. They glanced curiously at the pictures of the bloomers, but were not inclined to be drawn into any discussion. They settled up with Gus and left.

  “That true about them bloomers?” Charley smiled.

  “Sure thing.” Gus smiled back at Charley. “You having dinner with Mildred?”

  “Not tonight.”

  Gus perked up, and clearly relieved, gushed, “If you’re not busy later I’m going to cook some chicken with fixings. Be glad to have you join me.” Charley hesitated, prompting Gus to continue, “I’m sorry. I guess you don’t want another go-around with me.”

  He did not want to offend Gus, beside which he thought the distraction would do him some good. “Gus, that chicken you’re making…you sure you’ll have enough for the hungry likes of me?” Charley smiled.

  “You bet! How’s about coming back after five-thirty when I close?”

  “I’ve got some leftover pie I bought from Barney’s place. Apple. I’d be happy to share it.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  As he left the store, Charley ran into little Johnny Nestor with his mother Georgia.

  “Mamma, look!”

  Georgia smiled down at her boy, then at Charley. “Good to see you, Charley. Johnny’s been telling us about all the time you’ve been spending with him at school. We’re sure grateful you’re helping out there. Rebecca has her hands full with church and school duties.”

  Charley affectionately patted the boy on the shoulder. “You got a smart little fellow here. Full of questions. Likes me reading to him. Don’t you, Johnny?”

  “Sure do.”

  Charley laughed. “I’ll be around tomorrow and I’ll be sure to wear my baggy pants.” Johnny knew he was referring to him tugging on Charley’s pant leg to get his attention.

  “Georgia, nice to see you.”

  “Same here, Charley.”

  “Bye-bye, Charley.” Johnny gave a big smile showing off a bucktooth.

  Charley headed out, his mood elevated by his visit with Gus. He was glad to have an invite and looked forward to having someone to talk with later. He was also pleased that he had run into Johnny Nestor and reflected on how refreshing it was to be around children and their honesty. He remembered the meal that he had with Gus and compared that conversation to how he felt around the children and, to his surprise, felt a commonality between the two. Their conversation had been open and unadulterated and he was looking forward to having another meal with a man who did not present the usual boring predictable cackle.

  Later that evening as the sun was setting, turning the hillside aglow with a reddish hue, Gus and Charley finished their apple pie. “Look at that.” Gus motioned out the window. “That’s what the settlers must have seen when they decided to name this place.”

  “Sure is pretty.” Charley saw a trail of smoke coming from the distance. �
��Someone must be burning waste. Sure hope it don’t catch the tinder out there. We’re having quite a dry year.”

  “Yeah.” Gus continued looking out the window. “After a hard day, I come up here, throw a hard one down and look at that. That’s all I need.”

  Charley watched as the sun dove down below the horizon, casting a deep pink wave of color that settled over the mountain. He felt full, satisfied, and appreciative for the company. “Looks like a slow river moving over those hills,” he said, referring to the sun’s movement.

  Gus had avoided taking any alcohol during their meal but now that they had finished, offered Charley a shot. “Care for one?”

  “Not tonight, Gus.”

  Still wanting to undo threads of remorse he felt by overdoing it the last time, Gus put his glass down without pouring. “Had things on my mind the other night needed numbing.” He nervously laughed.

  “Tell you the truth, I enjoyed the evening. Hope you continue to feel free to speak your mind with me.” Charley looked down at the empty glasses. “I don’t talk much with people. When you get right down to it, what all is there to talk about with most folk around here?”

  Gus nodded agreement.

  “Seems to me a lot of it is blather, which is either boring or ends up offending. Just not interested in that.”

  “I agree with you, Charley. Most of what people around here gab about is nonsense and worse. So much going on in the world, so many interesting people, places, history. People around here hunger for news to come in so they can point fingers and inflate themselves at someone else’s expense.”

  “Inflate?”

  “Make someone else look inferior makes ’em feel important.”

  “Oh yeah, that. Wasn’t sure what you meant.”

  Gus continued, “Lot of prejudice. There are so many more interesting things to talk about.”

  “Like what, Gus?”

  Gus looked at a pile of books resting upon a box by the door, a reminder to bring them down to the store where he had set up a lending library. His collection included books from all over the world. “Do you like to read much?”

  “I like to read. Most of the reading I do is with the kids after school,” Charley laughed. “What you said the other night got me thinking. About the Bible…”

  Gus lowered his head. “I wish I hadn’t said some things. I meant no disrespect.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  He looked at Charley. “Really?”

  “Never looked at it like it was just a book. I kinda liked having a new perspective. New way of looking at something.”

  “It’s a delicate subject.”

  “I know that, Gus,” he sighed. “I liked listening to something new that got me thinking. I have thoughts too…been afraid to say some of them. What would people think?”

  “Amen.” Gus oozed sarcasm.

  Charley laughed. “Children don’t hold back. They just say it like it is. It’s refreshing.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “You sure have a lot of books there,” said Charley.

  “Those books up against the wall over there…” Gus pointed to a corner stacked high with books. “Even got one from that Wilde fellow.” These were the books Gus would not be adding to the library in the store. They were too controversial.

  “Who?” Charley asked, the name not familiar, having been preoccupied with Emma’s death at the time the news had broken of Oscar Wilde.

  “A writer. Lives in England. Well, now he’s in prison.”

  “How come?” asked Charley.

  “Was caught in the act with another man. The man’s father took Wilde to court and won the case. Can’t have any of that going on under Queen Victoria’s nose,” mocked Gus. “The town here was in an uproar when the news came in. You can well imagine.” Gus fingered one of the shot glasses in front of him. “Think I’ll just have a little now.” He poured both full. “Change your mind?”

  “Since you poured two, sure.”

  “Don’t worry, if you don’t want it, it won’t go to waste.” He pushed the glass to Charley. “Yeah, I tell you…the slightest bit of news comes in, the hatred flares up again. Now they’re at it cause something came in about how the guy’s spending his time in prison. Six hours a day on a treadmill.”

  Charley felt the turn in Gus’s attitude when he brought up Wilde and he was aware that Gus took to drink when he was bothered. He wondered what it was. “That who they were talking about when I came in earlier?”

  “Here you go.” He held up his shot glass to make a toast. “Yes, that’s who they were blabbing about. As for me, I…I applaud Oscar Wilde!” He downed the shot.

  “How come you think he’s something special? A man with another man?” Charley pulled a face. “That don’t seem right to me.”

  “Why? Because he’s of the mind to live the life he wants to? Most people are living what they think they should instead of what they want. Before you know it, your life has slipped away and you die miserable. You said you like to look at things in a new way?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You believe in the Bible, Charley?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with…”

  “I don’t like to talk religion with anyone, Charley. Have your belief. That’s fine with me, but don’t hate me because I might not agree with it. Not saying I don’t but for conversation sake I like to look at things differently. Did you know that most of our original colonies had governments whose laws were based on religion?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” replied Charley.

  “It’s true. The law in many of those colonies called for the execution of people who didn’t observe set-down religious practices, like attending church on Sunday.”

  “Gus, that’s hard to believe.”

  “It’s true. I’ll loan you the book I read that in.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Point I’m trying to make…your question about a man with a man? It’s not that I think he’s special, to use your word, but who are we hurting by being with whomever we want in our own bedroom? And along that line…” He poured himself another and nodded to Charley, “You?”

  Charley put a hand over his glass. “I’m good.”

  “Who’s that Negro hurting by talking to crowds, trying to get his race educated? Who are you hurting by talking with me? We’re just sharing our thoughts. But I’ll tell you, Charley, you mention this conversation to anyone and I’ll lose customers.”

  “I told you, Gus…”

  “I know you’re not going to say anything. But you know it’s true.” Gus looked over at the stacks of books. “That’s why I read so much. A book isn’t going to hurt me. A book isn’t going to form some opinion about me that could wreck my life. I learn about so many new and great things from reading. I keep to myself with a good book and a shot of whiskey and I’m right with the world.” He went on to tell him about some of the great books he had read over the years, mentioning a few of the ones in his private stack.

  Charley raised and stretched his arms. “I’m getting tired. Maybe I could do some reading and we could talk about things together?”

  “Want to borrow a book? Dickens, Melville, Cooper, or maybe Shakespeare?” laughed Gus.

  Charley went over to the books. “There’s so many here.”

  “Take whatever you want. Bring them back when you’re finished.”

  Charley randomly selected a few books. “Thanks. That’ll do me. I better be getting on now.”

  “Sure thing. Let me see you out.”

  As they walked downstairs to the door, Charley took an interest in what Gus was saying about the books he loaned him. On his way home, he realized spending time with Gus took his attention off worry about Mildred.

  “I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones.” OSCAR WILDE

  17

  With the news of Mildred’s collapse, Josie was invigorated. She had been mouthing off t
o anyone who’d listen and speculating about why it happened, none of which was favorable. In the middle of tea at Sarah’s, she screamed. “She’s pregnant!”

  Sarah dropped her teacup, spilling tea on the table. Madeline choked on her biscuit. Hanah could not believe her ears. “How do you know that?”

  “What else could it be? She’s out on a date and then the next time she’s in town she faints.”

  Madeline, still trying to clear her throat of crumbs, attempted to ask, “Do you really think that’s…” before she went into coughing spasms.

  Hanah got her a glass of water. “Here.”

  “What else? That woman is healthy as a horse. Why, she even looks like a horse!” Josie laughed.

  Sarah cleaned up the spill on the table with her napkin. “But Charley…” she hesitated, “Emma was his love. Everybody knows that. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “He’s a man! Get your head out of that fog you’re in. Look at all the men trouble this town’s been through. Jackson Carrow went out on his wife, didn’t he? They were like Charley and Emma, weren’t they?” Josie sipped her tea. “Sarah, what kind of tea is this? Mighty tasty.”

  Madeline continued to cough.

  Hanah shook her head. “I just can’t believe…”

  “Don’t have to believe nothing. Just look at it,” Josie insisted. “What else could it be? That Mildred is always so secretive. Never comes around to join in with us. Gotta have secrets! She makes me sick with her higher than mighty way. Someday she’s gonna get what she deserves…”

  Madeline tried to speak up. “But Charley wouldn’t…”

  “Oh, Charley wouldn’t?” Josie slammed back in sarcasm.

  “Charley’s not Jackson Carrow,” said Hanah.

  “And?” Josie looked at the women one at a time with a slow movement of her head. “Don’t you find it strange that Charley came around from his loss with Emma so fast?”

  No one replied.

  “Point made,” Josie stated with satisfaction.

  “Wait till Helene hears this,” said Hanah.

  “And Pat!” exclaimed Sarah.